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Book.. _l _ 

Copyright)! 0 _' ^1 21 _ 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 







Ambition 

A Poem 

By W. Durward Howie 



Fort Morgan, Colorado 


RURAL INDEX PRESS 
1923 


PS 3S (S' 

As 

^2 3 


Copyright 1923, 

By 

W. DURWARD HOWIE 


©C1A711955 

| 


DEDICATION 

To my mother, Mary Elizabeth Howie, 
To my wife, Vida McAllister Howie, 
To my daughter, Margaret Elizabeth 
Howie. 



Ode To The Flag 

“ 8 ? 

Flag of our fathers who fought for the blessings 
of peace, 

Flag of our hopes that were born when it 
waved in the breeze, 

Flag of our dreams that has brought the op¬ 
pressed glad release 

From tyrants’ power when it floated o’er land 
and the seas, 

Flag of our fears when we saw the war mon¬ 
ster appear, 

Flag of our tears when we gave our brave 
boys for the fight, 

Flag of our homes that we felt were so sacred 
and dear, 

Flag of our prayers when we asked for the 
triumph of Right. 

We honor thee as thou wavest aloft in the 
breeze. 


AUG 30 1923 




Introduction 

The word “Ambition” means “to go around.” 
It refers to the custom of ancient Roman poli¬ 
ticians going around seeking the favor of the 
citizens and desiring their votes. In various 
ways these politicians sought public favor. 
Some acted wisely and brought a boon to their 
country while others influenced by selfishness 
brought disfavor to themselves and misfortune 
to their hative land. Ail were ‘‘ambitious.” 
The World War called attention to the fact that 
the “ambition” cf ancient Rome has been re¬ 
peated in modern times. In that war some 
fought for selfish interests, some for liberty; 
some had a false, some a true “Ambition.” In 
the poem “Ambition” the author has sought to 
show the folly of false “ambition” and the great¬ 
ness of true “ambition.” Re gives it to the 
public in the hope that it may sound a warning 
to those who live for themselves alone and an 
inspiration to those who live for the public wel¬ 
fare. 




























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“I think the world is at her best.” 

ACT I 

Scene I. A Garden of Corsica. A Starry 

Night. 

Enter Napoleon Bonaparte and Friends. 
Napoleon. 

What think you of the starry night? 

What think you of the heavens 
bright? 

Carlo. 

I t hink the world is at her best 
To soothe our souls to quiet rest. 

There’s not a sound that I can hear, 

No melancholy noise is near, 

The stars that glitter right up there 
Are Fairy lanterns of the air, 

The trees along the ways that bow 
Proclaim a world of Love right now, 

All Nature seems to say to me, 

“The world is as it ought to be.” 
Napoleon. 

The world is not just as it seems, 

For me to-night’s a night of dreams; 

But oft I’ve heard my father say, 

“My son, dream not your life away, 

Put up your dreams and be a man 
And help the world the best you 



But somehow I have always found 
That dreamy men in hope abound. 

When grieving Nature sheds her tears 
And happy Sunshine then appears 
The Rainbow turns the night to day 
And Nature is in glad array- 
So when one dreams in early years 
His dreams may end in childish tears, 

But when the Sun of Hope appears 
The Rainbow comes to light his years. 
The world's a garden unto me 
With every kind of flower and tree- 
With roses red and daisies white, 

With lilies pale and poppies bright, 

With violets and sunflowers, too. 

And flowers of red and white and blue. 
This dream-land garden now is France, 

I see her mighty hosts advance. 

LeFere. 

Youth sees the world a garden gay 
Wherein the acts of men are play, 

But soon the world becomes a stage 
On which mad actors always rage. 

And then it changes to a sea 
With waves of grim uncertainty, 

At length it is a forest deep 
Where silence reigns o’er souls that sleep. 
We now are in the garden here 
But yonder (pointing) is a cottage queer, 
Where lives a man who thinks that life 
Is one colossal, awful strife 
Between Ambition false and true, 
Between the good and evil, too. 

But with Ambition that is pure 


The world will rest in peace secure. 
(They All Sing.) 

Let Freedom rule throughout the world, 
Let tyrants from their thrones be hurled, 
Let j ustice come to take her stand 
Before the hearths of every land, 

Let honor be the rule of might 
To bring the day out of the night, 

Let Bethlehem forever stand 
A beacon to each darkened land, 

Let angels tune their harps to play, 

Let Heaven’s music sound to-day. 

(They All Leave the Garden,) 

Act I, Scene 2. 

The Same Garden. Enter Three Vagabonds. 

First Vagabond, (Pointing Around.) 

What have we here? A garden rare, 
What have we there? (Pointing.) A cot¬ 
tage bare. 

So misery is often found 
Not far from where great joj^s abound. 
The poor man in his wretched state 
Is starving at the rich man’s gate, 

The infant cooing in her cot 
As if to say, “Forget me not,” 

Is near the saddened cottage where 
There is a vacant cot or chair. 

Second Vagabond. 

Why prate about and sorrow take? 

Your world yourself can only make. 
Third Vagabond, 

Tut, tut, my friends, the world’s all right, 


If you look on the side that’s bright. 
First Vagabond, 

It may be right, but now I hear 
An awful scourge is drawing near. 
Last night as I lay sleeping out 
I heard a fierce and dreadful shout, 
And then I saw a man pass by 
And heard him heave in bitter sigh, 

“ The Bastile has been taken now, 

And Paris to the mob must bow.” 

A voice from the cottage singing, 

Sleep on, my child, and be at rest. 
Watched o’er by angels that are blest. 
The troubles that have brought a tear 
Are gone and God is staying near, 
(They all go out,) 



(A Street in Paris. A great commotion. Enter 
Desmoulins, Bailly, Necker, and Crowds.) 
Desmoulins. 

The old king Louis now is dead, 

And as he died he sighing said, 

“A deluge, after me”—-I hear 
The storm that now is drawing near, 







I see the Day of Freedom spent, 

I know the heart of France is rent. 
Where Vice and Luxury abound 
Contentment sweet is never found. 

The new king now has given up 
To drink the Autocratic cup 
So full of dregs and bitterness, 

So full of anguish and distress. 

They say he is a noble king— 

Nobility with truth should ring— 

Why does he then the rule bestow 
On men who rob the people so? 

I see a reason for his deeds, 

(He must supply Ambition’s needs,) 
Well! Let him now this course advance, 
With Life or Death he takes a chance. 
Out of this land of tears and sighs. 

Let Freedom like Young Phoenix rise. 
Yet in the dark and gloomy night 
I hear Ambition’s call to might, 

“Climb upward o’er the rugged steeps, 
No frowning rock Ambition keeps 
From reaching dizzy heights above 
Where man forgets all human love 
And looks on faces once aglow 
Now marred by misery and woe, 

And glories in the evil hour 
That gives to him death-dealing power, 
And laughs to see fair men in chains 
While he the sceptre holds, and reigns.” 

Necker, 

I know that France again will be 
A home for noble men and free, 

But she is passing through a gale, 


Her Ship of State can scarcely sail, 
Autocracy or Anarchy 
Can never give her Liberty; 

But why complain about her plight 
Unless you do just what is right? 

For I have noticed in my life 
That talking men oft bring a strife; 

So keep your words for other days. 

But frame your deeds in Freedom’s ways. 
He wins who works, and silence keeps, 

He fails who talks and feebly creeps. 

Be thou a hero, let thy might 
In golden deeds proclaim the right 
Desmoulins. 

That may be so, but this I know 
That wise men talk like Mirabeau, 

Who said in haughty, fiery tones, 

“We will not leave this hall, the stones 
Of Paris rise in mutiny 
Against this vain Autocracy, 

To king and counselor we shout, 

‘ The bayonet must drive us out,’ ” 

If he can talk why cannot I 
Who hear the people’s awful sigh? 
Necker. 

But who has put on France the rod- 
The people or a righteous God? 

I am a banker and I know 

That money makes the money grow: 

So luxury will always bring 
More luxury and everything 
That mars at length a happy State 
And brings on man a cruel fate. 

I am content to think that now 


Oar country to our God must bow, 
Because I know it is our sin 
That brought us to the place we’re in. 
Forgetting luxury will be 
The price of France’s liberty. 

Bailly, 

As Mayor of this city proud 
I am by sorrow deeply bowed, 

I see the folly of the way 
Of choosing night instead of day, 

Of fighting for a cause that’s wrong 
Although encouragement be strong, 

Of trusting men of doubtful lives 
Although they work like bees in hives. 

(I hear some bugler sounding “Taps,” 

I wonder if our Louis naps,) 

Enter Citizens. 

First Citizen, 

When will this Reign of Terror end? 
When will the tyrant’s spirit bend? 
Second Citizen, 

I do not know when this will be, 

But one thing I can plainly see— 
Ambition one day will behold 
A world of sorrow yet untold, 

Through Belgium will the hosts advance 
To spill the blood of noble France. 

Act I, Scene 4. 

[The Royal House in Versailles. Enter Duke de 
Laincourt.] 

DeLaincourt, looking around. 

The king, the king, I want the king 


To tell him of the wicked thing 
That has o’ertaken France just now r . 

I fear that Paris to the mob must bow. 
(Enter the King, Louis XVI.) 

Louis, 

What have you heard from Paris, friend, 
To make you think that France will bend 
The knee before some tyrant great-- 
Or Anarchy his bloody mate? 

There is a God who lives above 
And guides the eagle and the dove. 
DeLaincourt, 

Your faith is great, your knowledge small, 
You did not see the Bastile fall, 

And Paris knows no law to-day, 

For blood and death and crime hold sway. 

Louis. 

An Insurrection now is here 
And w r e must rule without a fear, 
DeLaincourt. 

An Insurrection—not at all, 

A Revolution—that is all. 

(He Goes Out.) 

Louis. 

The man who lives a public life 
No stranger is to public strife. 

No matter what he tries to do, 

“He is ambitious through and through.” 
I do not see why this should be, 

My people are so dear to me, 

I work for France with all my might 
And try to do the thing that’s right. 


Because I have some friends to please 
The rabble sorely tries to tease, 

And calls me vain, and shouts that I 
Deserve not life but ought to die. 

If I were not a child of Fate 
I’d spurn my crown and abdicate, 

But if I leave when troubles roll 
The world will say, ‘‘A wretched soul.” 

I think the king is always blest 
Who trusts in God and does his best. 

I’ve wandered through the forest deep 
To see what Nature there doth keep, 

To see if I could find a spring 
At which birds drink and sweetly sing, 
To see if I could find a flower 
That would adorn my own home bower, 
To see what God would say to me 
Through bramble bush and shady tree. 

In deepest dell I’ve often found, 

Where shadows fall the year aroud, 

A graceful fern that always speaks 
The voice of God to him who seeks. 

Fair flowers are creatures of the sun 
And go to sleep when day is done. 

The fern in darkness thrives and lives, 
Out of that darkness beauty gives. 

The flower dies not because of light. 

The fern dies not because of night, 

And each a message now would give 
To help humanity to live. 

Sometimes a God who knows us all 
Takes us away where shadows fall, 

And shows us not the flowers of light, 
But shows us ferns that thrive at night. 


Life’s glories are not always won 
By him who sees the noonday sun, 

But victory will him delight 
Who climbs on upward in the night. 

The man with soul that is set free— 

No matter where his life may be— 

Will honor God who loves and lives 
And to His people honor gives. 

The beauty of the flower will be 
No greater than the fern to me, 

For both do teach a lesson great 
For every man in every state. 

Fair France has lived long in the light. 
She now is passing into night, 

But when her soul is purified 
A nation strong she will abide, 

(He goes out,) 

Act I. Scene 5. 

(A room in the palace of the Tuiieries, Paris. 

Enter two Jacobins,) 

First Jacobin, 

I think this palace is the place 
Where Louis brings to France disgrace, 
And I do think that such a king 
To justice we should quickly bring, 

For I have heard it said to-day 
That he has papers hid away, 

And if so they will truly be 
Against the voice of “Liberte,” 

And they will mock “Egalite,” 

And disregard “Fraternite.” 

I think the guillotine is near, 

And he before it should appear. 


Second Jacobin. 

The day of judgment now is here, 

The gloomy guillotine is near, 

Now let us search this very room, 

And take away from France the gloom 
That hovers like a darkened cloud 
And wraps her glory in a shroud, 

(He looks around.” 

What have we here in this dark wall? 

A safe, a safe, but that’s not all. 

Some letters from the Emigrants. 

This means the Court no mercy grants. 
(They both go out.) 

Act I. Scene 6. A room in Paris. The 
National Convention, Enter St. Just, Deseze, 
Robespierre, Tronchet, Malesherbes, and King 
Louis XVI,) 

Robespierre, 

My Friends, My Countrymen, My Peers, 
This is a day of flowing tears, 

The shadow falls on castle walls 
And on the king’s white marble halls, 

But sunshine on the cottage plays— 

This is a sign of better days. 

We all look back to former days 
When great kings ruled in goodly ways, 
But now we see a king’s great power 
Can bring great ruin in an hour. 

When kingdoms fall and people wake 
Fair Freedom o’er the world will break. 
The king has friends who wish him well, 
And through the kingdom loudly tell 
The virtues of his private life, 


The kindness of Marie his wife; 

But private virtues disappear, 

And public vices grow each year. 

So when Ambition rules the day 
The people cannot have fair play. 

The monarchy will always be 
The guillotine of Liberty. 

Let justice overtake the king. 

And let the Bells of Freedom ring. 

St. Just, 

I come not here to estimate 

The value of the king’s estate, 

Nor do I wish to cause a tear 
To trickle down a cheek that’s here, 
For he is not a man who tries 
To win his case through weeping eyes. 
He lives the most who does his best 
To bring to all Fair Freedom’s rest, 

I speak to-day because I feel 
The spirit wounds will never heal 
As long as Monarchy remains 
And holds the people slaves in chains. 
I will not speak against the king 
Lest to his friends I sorrow bring, 

I will not sing a hymn of hate 
To bring on France a frightful fate, 
But I do think that Louis here— 

A noble man—should disappear 
From council-chambers of the State 
Because his presence genders hate. 

I do not love King Louis less 
But I love France more in distress. 
Malesherbes. 

The greatest power I know is Love 


That falls on earth from Heaven above, 
Tis strong as Death and lingers long, 
And comes to man when sorrows throng, 
’Tis like the Ocean broad and deep 
That secrets great will always keep. 
Though rolling, angry waves display 
The terror of the Ocean’s way 
A million lives of every form 
Contentment know beneath the storm. 
The waves of Anarchy may roll 
Above our great king’s troubled soul, 

But love is deep and love will bring 
Contentment to this worthy king. 

In days when Louis was in power, 

Before this dreadful, evil hour, 

I twice w r as called in matters great 
To council-tables of the State. 

’Twas then an honor greatly sought, 
’Twas then Ambition’s chiefest thought; 
So love to-day cannot repay 
The kindness of a former day. 

He never is a friend indeed 
Who never helps a friend in need, 

He never helps the State at all 
Who only helps w r hen honors fall. 

I gladly will my king defend, 

Although my course in blood may end, 
For gratitude like goodly love 
Is honored by the King above, 

And like the incense will arise 
To golden courts of Paradise. 

But there is not a thing to say 
Against the noble king to-day, 

Save this, and only this: He loved us all 


And tried to help both great and small. 
If this be mean, will you just tell 
When is a man now doing well? 

We live in deeds and not in years, 

In goodly hopes and not in fears. 
Judged by this standard Louis lives 
And to the world great honor gives. 

Ah! I remember well the day 
That Louis rode along the way, 

And mobs called out in voices shrill, 
“The guillotine! The king we’ll kill,” 
And Louis asked a soldier then, 

‘‘If I ride on will I kill men?” 

“It may be so,” the soldier sighed. 

4 Back to the Tuileries I’ll ride,” 

The king replied without a fear. 

Was this ambitious? Nobles, hear. 
Deseze. 

Ambition for a selfish end 
Will on a nation ruin send, 

Ambition for the public weal 
Will a great nation wounded heal. 

When Louis came into this hall 
He came a patriot, that’s all. 

His life may be a narrow span, 

But this I know—he is a man. 

No sacrifice for him is great 
If he can help thereby the State, 
Robespierre. 

Then let him sacrifice his life 
And end at once this bloody strife 
Vam sentiment though mixed with tears 
Will not remove a nation’s fears, 


And wrong will never be made right 
By great Ambition’s cruel might. 

When Louis Capot meets his God 
Fair France will know no more the rod, 

Tronchet. 

The dower that in the Summer grows 
Is killed by Autumn’s frost and snows, 
The sweetest flower of Liberty 
Will die by blasts of Anarchy. 

When you condemn the king, my Peers, 
You welcome long and bitter years 
Of strife and blood and hate and wrong 
And vice that will our country throng. 
Malesherhes, (Looks up.) 

0 Lord, our God, to whom we pray, 

Take thou in charge our case this day, 
We know not what the end may be, 

But w~e trust everything to thee, 

Thou dost rule nations as of old, 

And out of dross thou dost bring gold. 
Act I, Scene 7. 

(A Room in Paris, Enter Edgeworth the king’s 
spiritual adviser, the King, Marie. Antoinette 
his wife, his sister Elizabeth, and his two chil¬ 
dren.) 

Louis. (Alone,) 

This is the end of my day dreams, 

On me the sun no longer beams. 

I feel the night is drawing near. 

But I can meet it without fear, 

I have not lived a misspent life— 

A friend of every kind of strife— 

For I have honor loved and tried 


To do good deeds before I died. 

’Tis sweet to feel when death is near 
That I may see my loved ones dear, 

Yet I regret that I must part 
From those I love with all my heart. 

I look away to future years 
Beyond this world of flowing tears 
To regions of the setting sun, 

And hope to hear from God, ‘"'Well done.’’ 
(Enter Edgeworth.) 

Louis. 

I’m glad you’ve come—that can I tell. 
The Book you’ve brought and that is well 
He is my friend who that Book lives 
And of its precepts freely gives. 

(Enter Marie Antoinette.) 

Marie. (To Louis.) 

A woman’s heart and life to-day 
Are broken by this cruel way. 

When men of power no mercy show 
The State to ruin soon will go. 

I will not talk against our fate — 

Such talk is useless, full of hate. 

There’s one thing that I know will be 
A lasting comfort unto me. 

Vile men have taken now thy crown 
And robbed thee of thy great renown 
But they cannot despoil thy fame 
Or take from thee thy goodly name. 

Soon will thy form rest ’neath the sod, 

Ihy soul will live secure with God, 

Lhy good name will a treasure be 
Sealed in the chest of Memory. 


Louis. 

A man may travel in the day, 

And friends may cheer him on his way. 
And birds may smg a hymn of praise 
To Him who always guides their ways 
And meadows green may all proclaim 
The greatness of their Maker’s name. 
And flowers may spread their beauty 
round 

In dappled splendors on the ground, 

But he who journeys in the night 
No stranger is to fearful fright. 

The faded glories of the day 
Drive hope and courage far away. 

A man may travel in tne day 
And with his friends be glad and gay; 
But when he travels in the night 
He walks aione without delight. 

I’m walking through a darkened dell, 
The night is here I cannot tell, 

Alas! how soon my life will end, 

But in this hour I crave a friend, 

Though sad, one journey I must end 
Alone without a human friend, 

And just before me now I see 
That journey to eternity. 

Farewell to thee, my dear, my dove. 

We 11 meet again in Heaven above, 


I grieve to leave you all, you know, 

But I am not afraid to go, 

Farewell to thee, farewell to thee, 

God bless thy life, grieve not for me. 
(Louis goes out) 

Act I. Scene 8. 

LA Street of Paris. The Place of the Guillo¬ 
tine. Enter Malesherbes, looking around.] 
Malesherbes. 

He was the noblest man in France, 

Who tried her glory to advance. 

And like the Man of Galilee 
He struggled hard to set men free, 

And history will some day tell 
He struggled hard and fought so well. 
Was he ambitious? Not at all, 

He loved his country, that is all. 

He was not weak as some suppose, 

A mad hot wind can wilt a rose. 


(He goes out.) 



Act II. Scene 1. 


A French Army Camp Outside Teulon. Enter 

Napoleon and Officers,) 

Napoleon, 


The Day of Opportunity 





Is drawing very near to me. 

( Last night I had a wretched dream. 

I saw sad faces with no gleam 
Of hope, no golden sunshine there, 

And nothing but a mad despair, 

And I saw people soldiers bear 
Across a field. I heard the prayer 
Of dying soldiers. 0 my God! 

I would prefer the cold, cold sod, 

And as the days of life unroll 
111 softly go with bitter soul. 

We're living in an awful time- 
To live at all is all subiime- 
Wfcen wretchedness in every form 
Gives warning of the bursting storm 
That will sweep o’er the weeping world 
And kings from thrones will then be 
hurled.) 

This is enough of sentiment. 

I’ve said enough-1 am content. 

I think that I can truly be 
The people’s guide to victory. 

First Officer. (To Napoleon ) 

Your leadership is safe, my friend, 

This hateful terror soon will end. 

The ideals that you have are high, 

And you will never pass them by. 

But high ideals must always be 


From low ambition wholly free. 

Second Officer. 

Forgetting self will always be 
The sign of Immortality. 

Napoleon. 

I see a new star in the sky, 

And no one fears it more than I. 

What will that star bring unto me? 

It is the Star of Destiny. 

First Officer. 

Now if you play a noble game 
And do not play for fleeting fame 
That Star will bring you honor great, 
You’ll be a noble child of Fate, 

But if you heed Ambition’s call 
Your Star will from the heavens fall, 

And in the stead of worthy name, 

You’ll have, poor soul, immortal shame, 
Napoleon. 

Forgetting self, I ll serve the State, 

I cannot tempt a cruel fate. 

(They All Go Out.) 

Act II. Scene 2. 

[A Street of Savona. Enter Napoleon and 

Marshal Ney,] 

Napoleon. 

Carnot in haste has chosen me 
To lead our troops to Italy 


And he knows well no force can stand 
Against our good and noble band. 

The day of suffering is near, 

The day of sacrifice is here. 

When duty calls me far away 
I must forget my wedding day, 

But when great victory IVe seen 
I'll soon return to Josephine. 

Man’s heart is one great battlefield, 
And of two forces one must yield; 
Ambition public makes attack, 

And private duty then fights back. 
The world looks on in wonder great 
To see the struggle terminate. 

The happiness of earth depends 
On how that mortal conflict ends, 

I do not know what years will tell, 

I only hope that I fight well 

Nev, 

The man who drinks Ambition’s cup 
Soon o wns a soul all shrivelled up, 
But he who drinks the cup of Love 
Drinks always Nectar from above. 
And then his soul redeemed will rise 
To realms of bliss in Paradise. 
Napoleon. 

Your words are foolishness unto me, 
For I’m The Man of Destiny. 

I do not wish you to repeat 
A sermon of the Judgment Seat. 


I came not here to hear such stuff, 

Of piety Fve had enough. 

My business is to play the game, 

And then I’ll win a lasting fame. 

(Enter a Regiment of French Soldiers.) 
Napoleon. 

Soldiers of France, I come to you 
And ask that you be strong and true, 
Your native country loves you well, 

As future days will surely tell, 

Away from home, half starved, and sad, 
Experience will make you glad, 

For just before me now I see 
The shining shores of Italy, 

To fertile valleys I will lead. 

To cities flourishing indeed, 

If you will always courage keep 
You’ll honor, glory, riches reap. 

The challenge unto us is hurled. 

We’ll win the homage of the world. 

Ney. (Aside ) 

Now let it work—I love him well— 

What he will do no man can tell. 

I truly hope that future years 
Will not be marred by flowing tears. 

(They All Go Out,) 

Act II. Scene 3. 

[The Palace of Malmaison, at Versailles, En¬ 
ter Napoleon and Josephine.] 


Josephine. (Alone.) 

This is the home of childish days. 

And worthy of my greatest praise, 

For here the first great vision came-- 
The glory of a spotless name- 
And since I saw that vision bright 
I’ve never walked in darkest night, 

But struggled upward in the day 
To find the best and noblest way. 

Twas here that I forgot mv plays, 

Twas here I learned Life's sterner ways, 
‘Twas here I saw the cooing dove 
That made me think of noble love, 

’ fwas here I spent the twilight hours 
With him among the fragrant flowers, 

( Those Towers that would a message 
g’ve 

And help us all to nobly live,) 

’Twas here I gave to him my heart. 

“For thee IT1 play a noble part,” 

Said he, then wandered far away 
And left me in the night, not day. 

Alone I’ve gone in twilight hours 
To shed my tears among the flowers, 

And they have always said to me, 

‘‘He ever will be true to thee.” 

Now I believe that flowers will live 
And to all ages strength will give 
To bear the burdens that befall 
The young, the old, the great, the small. 


Fond Mother loves her infant dear, 

And happy flowers are smiling near. 

The blushing maiden likes to see 
The flowers he sent ‘‘With love to thee,’’ 
The bride in glad array does say, 

“These flow T ers make glad my wedding 
day.” 

When silence comes to some sad room 
The smiling flowers dispell the gloom, 
And when there is the pallid face, 

And man has run his life-long race-- 
In halls of death throughout the years 
Kind flowers have sought to dry the 
tears, 

I think that God sent from above 
His kindest greetings-flowers of love. 

But I am sad, I cannot sing, 

I wish some Fate would sweetness bring, 
Although he may be far away 
My heart is near him now to-day. 

I’d like to go in moonlit hours 
And hear his love among the flowers. 
What is that stately step I hear? 

I wonder if he now is near! 

(Enter Napoleon.) 

Napoleon. 

I came from Schonbrunn yesterday, 

And to this garden made my way, 
Because I wished to see once more 
My sweetheart in the days of yore. 


Josephine. 

These many days I’ve watched in vain 
To see your noble face again, 

I’ve wandered to the garden here 
To be alone in grief and fear; 

But I’ll forget this agony 
Because I am to-night with thee. 
Napoleon. 

I’ve come to-night that I may see 
The one who was so dear to me. 
Josephine. 

I love you still wheree’r you go, 

Do you love me? Say “Yes” or “No,” 
Napoleon. 

I love you, too, with all my heart, 

I’ve tried to play a noble part, 

I’ve fought for you, I’ve fought for 
France, 

I’ve seen her mighty hosts advance. 

Who fights for country I can tell 
For home is also fighting well. 

The hero of the war will be 
The hero of the home, you see. 

The world admires the man who falls 
On battlefield when duty calls,- 
This is a pleasing thought to me. 

Such death brings Immortality. 
Josephine. 

I walked across a field one day 
To see an oak not far away, 


And near that sturdy oak I found 
A tree uprooted on the ground. 

A storm had passed along the way 
And felled the slender tree one day 
Because its roots were peeping round 
Too near the surface of the ground. 
That slender, fallen, ruined tree 
A warning silent gave to me 
Of clinging to a fleeting love 
That does not come from Heaven above. 
The oak will lift its mighty form 
And bid defiance to the storm, 

Because its roots are clinging so 
To earth as they down deeper go. 

The Storm of Life is passing now. 

And to some fate you soon must bow, 
But if Love's soil now holds you tight 
The storm may rage with all its might. 
And you will know nobility, 

And be a lover true to me, 

The world will then your praises sing, 
And you will truly be a king. 

Napoleon. 

Love speaks a language strong and 
strange 

That is beyond all human range, 

A language oft misunderstood, 

A language that is always good, 

A language that at length will rise 
Through cloudy mists to Paradise. 


Now who will say the mother hates 
Who gives not her who suplicates. 

Or who will count her always wise 
Who gives her gifts for weeping eyes? 
So judge me not, 0 Josephine, 
Because my face you have not seen 
In many months. Let not your tears 
Mist o'er the sunbeams of the years. 
Josephine. 

A woman’s love remains the same, 

She does not care for fleeting fame. 

I'd rather see your face at home 
Than hear of victory in Rome. 
(Aside,) 0 Destiny, 0 Destiny! 

Wilt thou take happiness from me? 
Napoleon. (Aside.) 

There’s not a word that I can say 
To drive her tears of love away, 

And I love her and she loves me-- 
The trouble is my Destiny. 

So I must tell her why I came-- 
Ambition seeks for me a name, 

(To Josephine.) 

’Tis hard for me to tell you so, 

But I must from your presence go 
And cast my lot in some strange land. 
My Destiny and France demand. 

If I an heir had ever seen 
I would not leave you, Josephine. 

(He goes out.) 


Josephine. (Alone.) 

His Star is set, his course is run, 

He's facing toward the setting sun, 

No man can bring the world great good 
Who scorns the rights of womanhood 
(She goes out) 

Act II. Scene 4, 

[A Room of the Capitol Building, in Washing¬ 
ton, D. C„ U. S. A. Enter Thomas Jefferson 
and James Monroe.] 

Jefferson. 

I'm much distressed o’er news I hear, 

I fear that trouble lingers near, 

When crafty Spain her land will give 
To bloody France no man can live 
A freeman’s life in our own land, 

For I see Mars with bloody hand. 

When Louisiana goes to France 
I see our warlike hosts advance. 

And in that strife we’ll soon forget 
Our ancient friend and Lafayette. 
Monroe. 

Till France and Spain their plottings 
cease 

America will have no peace. 

We cannot see Napoleon 
Destroy the hopes that George has 
won. 

Jefferson, 

I’ve heard the angry billows roar 


As they leaped o’er Virginia’s shore, 

I've seen the dashing spray mount high 
As if to reach the vaulted sky, 

But these are children just at play 
Compared to rough Ambition’s way. 

It frets and foams and leaps about, 

And frowning tries the world to rout. 
Ambition will not always w r in 
Because it oft is mixed with sin. 

A prophet I claim not to be, 

But one thing I can plainly see, 

America one day will be 
The synonym of Liberty, 

Ambition then will cry in chains. 

And Feace will sing in happy strains, 
O’er earth a melody will rise, 

“This is a second Paradise.” 

Monroe. 

What is your wish for us to do 
To make your worthy dream come 
true? 

Our land will act the noble part 
’Gainst any scheming Bonaparte. 
Jefferson, 

Upon the Ocean set your sail, 

Defying every storm and gale, 

And bring the right from over there 
Unto Louisiana fair. 

(They go out.) 


Act II. Scene 5. 

[On the Plains Near Waterloo, Belgium. En¬ 
ter Napoleon, Marshal Ney, and Marshal 
Grouchy.] 

Napoleon. (To the French Soldiers,) 

Soldiers of France, I speak to you, 

To your own country now be true, 

Forget that Moscow was aflame, 

Forget to think of Elba’s name, 

Fight for your country and your sires. 
Fight for your hearthstones and your 
fires, 

Forget the darkness of the night, 

Forget all else but fight and fight. 

The Empire quakes in this tense hour 
Before Allies of mighty power. 

But we can fight a noble fight 
And win because we have the light. 
Soldiers. (In Unison.) 

With Austerlitz came glory, too, 

And glory comes with Waterloo. 
Napoleon. 

To arms, to arms, Fox Blucher comes, 

I hear the beating of the drums. 

(Aside.) 

But I must win the battle great 
’Gainst Wellington and cruel Fate. 
But-should-I-lose-Ambition then 
Would fall and never rise again. 

From Toulon on to Waterloo 


I’ve loved the Red and White and Blue. 
My Star is shining at this hour, 

And it will lead me unto power. 

(To Ney.) 

I’ll meet the Prussians in the fight, 

And you put Wellington to flight, 

Let Blucher not meet Wellington, 

(And so the victory is won.) 

Marshal Grouchy, 

The Little Corporal will be 
Indeed the Man of Destiny. 

(They all go out.) 


Act II. Scene 6. 

[A Hill Near Waterloo. A Storm. Enter 

Napoleon and Marshal Ney.] 

Napoleon. 

Let rain descend on hill or plain. 

I will not fight to-day in vain. 

They say the Lord will turn the tide 
For him who fights on Honor’s side: 

But I believe the man will win- 
However great may be his sin- 
Who leads the biggest army, then. 

Of brave, heroic fighting men. 

I stand upon a precipice, 

And look down at the dark abyss. 

If I win Waterloo I rise 


To dizzy heights in human eyes. 

If I lose Waterloo I fall 
On rocks of taihne-that is all. 

(I almost wish that I could be, 

0 Josephine, to-day with thee.) 

Ambition is a bubble thin 
Made beautiful by tints within, 

But piercing Fates of passing years 
Destroy, and beauty disappears. 

There’s nothing left but memory. 

And that may melancholy be. 

There’s nothing then to calm the soul 
As ever on the ages roll. 

(I must not deal in sentiment, 

If I win war I am content.) 

(To Ney.) 

Lead on the Guard Imperial 
And break the British stubborn will, 
Cease not till Wellington gives up 
And drinks Defeat’s most bitter cup. 

And then our noble France will be 
The mistress of the land and sea. 

(Enter General Cambronne.) 
Cambronne. 

The Guard may die, it ne’er gives up, 

Of honor will it drink the cup. 

Napoleon. [On seeing the fierce conflict on the 
height of Monte Sainte Jean.] 

What is that now before my eyes? 

They rise, they rise, like demons rise 



To fight against a sturdy Fate 
And spill their blood in cruel hate. 

But look, I see my Guard advance. 
They’ll beat back Wellington for 
France. 

Alas! I see them reel and fall. 

I am undone, and lost is all. 

0 what a fall is here to-day, 

When Glory fades from me away! 
Ambition’s ruin I’ve now seen, 

I am alone-no Josephine 
To speak to me in garden rare 
And keep me from some sad despair. 
From dreary thoughts of dark dismay 
The rainbow has a charming way 
Of bringing joy to man's sad heart 
And makes him play a noble part; 

So woman with her words of love 
Brings Heaven down from heights 
above 

To change Life’s mists of gray dismay 
To rainbows of eternal day. 

Fair w T omen I have often seen, 

But none like thee, 0 Josephine. 


Act II. Scene 7, 

[A Cottage on the Island of St. Helena. Enter 
Napoleon, General Bertrand, Montholon, and 


Sir Hudson Lowe.] 

Napoleon. 

This rocky isle will be my home, 

111 never see another dome 
Of all the buildings of my France, 
But such is life and such is chance, 
And like Prometheus I am bound, 

I cannot hear a singly sound 
Except the sea-gulls near the shore, 
Except the angry billows’ roar. 

No friend is here to cheer me on- - 
No friend like her of Malmaison. 

My lonliness will always be 
A sad reminder unto me 
Of that one day in which 1 said, 

‘To you. Ambition, I am wed,” 

But now my race is nearly run, 

And not a victory I’ve won 
That’s worthy of a man of fame 
To bring to me a lasting name; 

And for Napoleon Fve fought, 

And Immortality I’ve sought, 

But all my efforts have been vain, 
And on my life I’ve brought a stain. 
The man who lives for self alone 
Will for his folly soon atone. 

Because this always was my way 
I’m on this island now to stay 
Without a thought to cheer my soul 
As ever onward ages roll. 


One day is like an age to me 
Once called “The Man of Destiny.” 
Sir Hudson Lowe. (To Napoleon,) 

There's nothing left for you to do 
Than worry now your whole life 
through, 

You’ve sown the seed of human woe, 
And from that seed a crop will grow 
To bring to you no wheat at all, 

But worthless chaff and that is all. 
You cannot hope to win fair play- 
You sowed it not in former day. 

The noblest man for others lives. 

And pity wins, for pity gives. 

The world looked on and saw your 
power- 

You spurned it in an evil hour. 
Ambition false led you astray, 

And now you live in dark dismay, 

You cared not for the cries of pain, 
Nor yet the victims you have slain; 
Ambition urged you to a goal, 

And now you have a wretched soul. 
Ambition to do good is right, 

It brings no harm, it brings no blight, 
It makes a man to Heaven look up, 

It gives to him the sweetest sup 
That any man can take-the cup 
Of Joy-he only needs a sup, 

He then can not his pleasure hide, 


But will call out, ‘Tm satisfied,” 

(Enter General Bertrand.) 

Be n ran d. (To N apoleon,) 

I come to wish you well, my friend, 

May some kind Fate you blessings send. 
He’s not a friend of man who gives 
Harsh words to any man who lives; 

And so to you I come to-day, 

And as a friend to you I say, 

“There is an empire better far 
Than any empire won by Star: 

It has a beauty all untold, 

It has a wealth as pure as gold, 

Tis not an empire won by power 
That may decay in one sad hour; 

It is an empire won by Love, 

Whose emblem is the pure white dove. 
Its Founder lived in Galilee 
And taught the people by the sea. 

The Babe of Bethlehem became 
The Man who bore an honored name, 
And taught the world that war must 
cease, 

For He was truly “Prince of Peace.” 
Napoleon. 

This worthless isle is Patmos true, 

Since I have come from Waterloo. 

As John was brought to solemn thought. 
To solemn thought I have been brought. 
Who ruled the world in days of old? 


Great men of might and leaders bold. 
Where are their empires now, I say? 
They’ve faded like the mists away. 

Great Caesar ruled by mighty power 
That fell to ruin in an hour, 

When Pompey’s statue did proclaim 
The end of Caesar’s growing fame, 

And no one said in loud acclaim, 

‘Til light for Caesar’s honored name;” 
But Christ by Love a kingdom won- 
See what that mighty Love has done: 
There’s not a man to light for me, 

But millions fight for Christ, I see. 

Who wins by Force will learn to weep, 
Who wins by Love will honor keep; 

And some day this old world will be 
A kingdom ruled by Galilee, 

And war and hatred then will cease 
And there wiil be the reign of Peace. 

Act II. Scene 8, 

[The Farm House of Lcngwocd, about three 
miles from Jamestown, on the Island of St. He¬ 
lena. Napoleon present. Enter Montholon and 
LasCases] 

Montholon (To Napoleon.) 

The Little Corporal to-day 
Is well, 1 hope, this fifth of May. 

I’ve come to bring some comfort here - 
A bunch of flowers so sweet and dear. 


The thought I wish to give to you 
Is best made known by fiow r ers of blue. 
This fragrant sanctuary shows 
That admiration for you grows. 
Napoleon (Reclining on Couch.) 

The man of genius with no heart 
Has lost of life the tetter part. 

He wins the noblest crc-wn of all 
Who lives for others great and small, 
Who ne’er can see the setting sun 
And rot call out “Some good I’ve done.’ 
I feel that Time is slipping by; 

A Man of Wretchedness am I, 

Ambition false has ruled my life 
And brought to me an inward strife. 

The struggles of my'soul should cease, 
Instead of wai I should have peace, 
LasCases. (To Napoleon.) 

Be calm until Life’s journey ends, 

For still you have a Ik st of friends. 

He wins,a prize who wins a friend, 

And keeps that friend unto the end. 

The prizes of the world are dear, 

There’s nothing like true friendship 
here. 

Napoleon 

I think the day is growing dark, 

I hear the twitter of the Lark; 

Its music falls upon the air 
As twilight notes of sweetest prayer. 


And when those prayerlike tones do 
cease 

The singer then will rest in peace. 

My Day of Life is nearly done, 

I see the golden setting sun; 

The world now full of brightness seeras, 
Let me lie down to sweetest dreams. 

I know I cannot linger long 
In this old world of tears and song. 
Before I bid the world “Good-bye” 

I'll tell you where I wish to lie. 

I’ve seen enough of war and strife, 

I’ve Vnown enough of stirring life, 

I've heard the winds that fiercely blow, 
I’ve seen the waters ebb and flow, 

I’ve seen gay cities full of woe, 

I’ve seen the country all aglow 
With perfumed splendors as they grow 
Along the highways row on row. 

So take me to some quiet spot 
vvfceregrowsthe sweet ForgeI-Me-Not, 
Where trees lift up their heads on high 
A,s if to pierce the vaulted sky, 

Where birds sing love-notes in the trees, 
Where roses courtsey in the breeze, 
Where cbattTing squirrels their music 
make 

And from the oaks the acorns take. 
Beneath the oaks then let me lie 
When I have told the world “Gcod-bj^e.” 


I think I’ll close my eyes in sleep 
If you will o’er me vigil keep. 

Montholon, (To Napoleon.) 

My Friend, you need not have a fear, 

For we shall linger with you here. 
(Aside,) I fear that he has gone to sleep, 
It is the time for friends to weep; 

But list, I hear his voice once more, 

As clear as in the days of yore. 

Napoleon. (In Delerium.) 

0 France, I’ve always fought for thee, 
Thou hast a holy destiny, 

I’ve crossed the mountains for thy name. 
And thou hast won a lasting fame. 
Where’s that white horse I used to ride 
Far up the rugged mountain-side? 

The Jordan is so near to me, 

I’m crossing now the stormy sea; 

In this tense time there cannot be 
A friend like Christ of Galilee; 

I care not for this world so cold; 

I only want to see the streets of gold 
That glitter with a glory all unknown 
Because Christ did for sin atone. 

What if the thunder-clouds do roar 
Above this rugged, rocky shore- 
An allegory of my life, 

Acquainted with all human strife- 
It’s nothing to Gethsemane 
Or yet to bloody Calvary. 


i 


The blood I spilled brought misery; 

The blood He shed brings liberty. 

Just give me now this liberty, 

It is the greatest boon to me. 

Let me think o’er my life to-day 
Before my soul just flees away. 

Ah! I remember well the day 
That Austerlitz became my prey, 

When Waggram saw my power and 
might- 

It was indeed a bloody sight. 

I honor France in all her ways, 

Her ancient sword still mighty slays. 
O’er Egypt’s sands, o’er Alpine snow s. 
O’er lands through which the Danube 
flows 

I’ve led the noble men of France 
To battle with both foe and Chance; 
And then to Moscow I would go- 
(Alas! Those awful drifts of snow!) 
The last great battle I have fought. 
And to this end I have been brought: 
But Waterloo, 0 Waterloo 
I lost, And head of army, too. 

Las Cases. 

His dream of empire now is o’er, 

He’s reached at length the other shore, 
He fought for France and he fought 
well; 

What he has done let ages tell. 



[A later date, A room in the Prussian Diet 
House. Fnter Prince Otto Von Bismark.] 
Bismark. 

I’m living in a world of dreams- 
A world that is not what it seems. 

Sweet daisies bloom in fields of green 
In which coiled vipers lie unseen; 

And “Failure” is the viper keen 
That strikes the victim dead unseen. 
Success is like the plant that lives 
And to the world its fragrance gives. 

To try, to fail, to try again. 

To try at all is not in vain. 

Do not disturb me in my dream: 

To you great folly it may seem, 

But listen and I’ll tell it you, 

Then wait and it will ail come true. 
When it comes true then there will be 
A strong, united Germany. 

Young David said to old King Saul, 
“This armor I can’t use at all, 

It would a fighting man make glad, 

It is too large for shepherd lad.” 


Had David fought for Saul that day 
Dressed up in some proud knight’s array 
He would have lost that bloody fight— 

A victim of Goliath’s might. 

The man who wins in any fight 
Must wear the armor that fits right. 

I think that the world mastery 
Belongs by right to Germany: 

But she must play a master’s part 
By playing well the fighter’s part. 

The world some day will see a sight 
To indicate great Prussia’s might. 

And we all look to her for power 
Not liberalism in this hour. 

Let Baden, Wurttenburg narrate 
The greatness of the liberal state; 

Let Prussia play a nobler role, 

And so imspire the nation’s soul. 

The Congress of Vienna gave 
A boundary that she must save: 

And she must win more lands some day 
By treaty or some other way. 

A mighty problem she must face 
To glorify the Teuton’s race. 

I know that blood and iron will be 
The price of Prussia’s destiny. 

[Fnter Von Ludwick.] 

Von Ludwich. 

When Bismark’s dream comes true a 
flood 


Of war will drench our land with blood, 
And sacrifices men will make, 

And Mars an awful toll will take. 

You cannot hope to save the State 
By teaching men to war and hate. 

As long as patriots rule the land 
The kingdom wall in honor stand. 
Bismark. 

Who is a patriot, now tell? 

He is the man who fights so well 
That every foe will fear the day 
When he sets forth in War’s array. 

Von Ludwick. 

There are three things that I know well 
By which you can a patriot tell:- 
A patriot will always give 
The best he has that men may live 
In fellowship with Happiness 
Away from sight of Wretchedness; 

A patriot will always fight 

For Truth, and Honor, Justice, Right. 

He may not see War’s awful flood- 
A sea of fiery human blood-- 
But he will know a mortal strife 
Among the scenes of civic life; 

And he will always strive to see 
His country’s noble destiny. 

A patriot will always feel 
A Force above the flashing steel, 

And he will know a mighty rod 


Is wielded by the hand of God, 

For godliness will always be 
A patriotic sign to me: 

So he lives twice who honor knows 
And in that honor daily grows. 

Re is 1 lie noblest man of ail 
Who knows that Gcd reigns over all. 

We cannot make an empire great 
Forgetting Him who rules the State 
And holds the nation in his hand 
To carry to some “Promised Land.” 
Bismark. 

I think a man can learn to be 
A maker of his destiny. 

Tis work and work and work all day; 
That is the best and wisest way, 

Let Shakespeare say “Divinity,” 

Tis blood and iron that strengthen me. 
Von Ludwick. 

A virtue sometimes pressed too far 
The glory of a State will mar. 

Fve seen fond parents spoil the child 
By being harsh instead of mild, 

Fve seen some parents pity show 
Instead of using one “Love Blow.” 

The parent who no pity gives 
Will spoil the sweetest child that lives, 
The parent who no firmness shows 
No blessing on his child bestows. 
Firmness or pity pressed too far 


Will always childhood’s beauty mar; 

And so it is with iron and blood- 
They mean great strength that like a 
flood 

Sweeps o'er the land in one sad hour 
And leaves behind mute signs of power— 
So if you press these virtues far 
You’ll spoil the State, its beauty mar. 
[Enter a child who causes a disturbance when 
she speaks.] 

Child. 

I could not find my dolls to-day; 

Tell me who took them all away. 

These dolls are all so dear to me, 

I wonder where they all can be. 

I speak to them, they speak to me: 

They make me think of life, you see. 

And if my dolls I never find 
I think I’ll surely lose my mind. 

They are my life, they are my all, 

I love them dearly great and small. 

Who takes my dolls in childish years 
Will fill my childish eyes with tears 
Karl Waeger. 

I think we should a lesson learn, 

And not the rights of children spurn- 
The rights descending from the skies, 
Right from the throne in Paradise- 
For God who made the pansies grow 
In sheltered places row on row 


Looks down and sees a garden fair- 
A sheltered spot of beauty rare, 

In which the sweetest flower that grows, 
More charming than the stately rose 
Proclaims its glory day by day 
To those who pass along the way. 

This garden is the sacred home 
More glorious than ancient Rome, 

Where splendor shewed the whole day 
long 

And Erato sang well her song. 

Now who will tend this garden fair. 

And watch the growing flowers there? 
The Framer of all destiny 
Will the great Overseer be. 

And parents then must do their part 
To give these plants a proper start. 

These plants cannot their beauty show 
Unless they’ve early learned to grow. 
Who waters plant with sacrifice 
Will see the glory of its rise; 

Who sets the plant with Love’s strong 
spade 

Will never see its beauty fade: 

So in this garden let this flower 
Bloom on watched o’er by Love’s great 
power. 

You cannot make a noble State 
If you forget the children’s fate, 

Or fill their eyes with swelling tears-- 


You can’t-not in a thousand years. 
Now list, I’ll tell you what I know: 
Let Germany in honor grow, 

And let her play a noble part 
In Science, Literature, and Art, 

Let her ambitions quickly cease, 

And let her be a land of peace, 

And let her never bring a blight 
By marring childhood's noble right, 
And let her nobly hold her place 
By keeping free from all disgrace, 
Bismark. 

The Leaning Tower of Pisa tall 
Some day to earth will take a fall- 
A wretched heap. 0 what a sight! 
For its foundation is not right. 

And what foundation has our State? 
Give heed to me and I’ll narrate. 
There can no greatness ever be 
As long as there be jealousy 
Among the sections of the land 
To rule the State with mighty hand. 
Now Time has taught us lessons great 
Of how to make or mar a State. 

Old Greece a country great and proud 
Was forced to wear a nation’s shroud, 
Although she fought right on and on 
And won the day at Marathon. 

Now Sparta was a noble town, 

And well deserved her rich renoun; 


Ar.d Corinth lived in proud array 
Before the people of her day; 

And Athens surely did her part 
In building up the Grecian art: 

Yet Sparta, Corinth, Athens-all- 
Assisted in their country’s fall, 

Because they knew no central State 
But left great Greece unto her fate. 

The thing to give our land great 
power 

Is unity this very hour; 

And we shall win the upper hand 
When we call out, “OUR Fatherland.” 
Disgrace you say, I say disgrace 
When men forget the Touton race. 

A common enemy some day 
May nearly take our land away, 
Because we feel great jealousy 
And do not live in unity; 

But war and war and war I hate, 

Yet it may come to build the State. 

Yon I udwick. 

Let such ambition quickly cease; 

I am for conquests won by Peace. 

Our land must do the best she can 
Respecting all the rights of man. 

Let her despise the thing that’s wrong, 
Let her respect the hearth’s sweet song, 
Let her heed well the baby’s cry, 

Let her neglect no aged sigh. 


One day as I was walking out 
I heard far off some children shout, 

I turned and saw a cottage fan- 
in front of this a great armed chair, 
And there a pilgrim sat that day 
As if to while the hours away: 

And as I paused to chat with him 
His heart was full right to the brim. 
When seated in his chair that day 
The old man said in musing way: 

“For I am old and worn to-day, 

I see Life’s picture of my way, 

I see the years I’ve traveled through. 

I see the happy friends I knew, 

I hear the laughter of my child- 
So good, so true, so loving, mild. 

I once was planning mighty schemes, 
But now I’m in the Land of Dreams. 
The land in which I live to day 
From youth is very far away; 

They call it “Land of Setting Sun” 
Because my day is nearly done; 

And now great riches fill my mind, 
But thoughts of gold I’ve left behind. 
I think of days so full of joy- 
Those happy days without alloy. 

I’m thinking of that quiet way 
Where Ruth and I one Summer day 
Walked arm in arm as lovers do 
And vowed to live a life that’s true. 


I think of friends I used to love 
Who now are living just above. 

I know the store-house of the soul 
Is Memory though ages roll. 

0 boyish joys I used to know, 

The places where I used to go, 

The growing hopes I used to feel 
That gripped my heart like bands of 
steel, 

The church I once did love so well- 
The good it did let ages tell— 

That told me of a mighty Friend. 
Contentment’s joys will never end.” 

So let the aged pilgrims be 
A sign of German liberty. 

No matter where those pilgrims roam 
Or where they call themselves “at home,” 
Bismark. (Aloud.) 

Now we must do the thing that’s right. 
And that will show the world our 
might. 

(Aside.) So let it be, so let it be, 

’Tis always blood and iron for me, 

(They All Go Out,) 

Act III, Scene 2. 

[A room in the Royal Palace, Paris, France. 
Enter Napoleon III and Count Benedetti the 
French Ambassadore to Berlin.] 

Benedetti. 

A crisis of the world is here, 


A day of Fate is drawing near, 

“Under the Lindens” I could see 
The longing for “New Germany.” 

Poor France must bleed again some day- 
That day is not so far away- 
For Bismark has a vision great, 

A vision of a growing State 

That will embrace the whole great earth 

Alas! In tears it will have birth, 

Unless the noble men of France 
Beat back the hordes as they advance: 
But France must let her Leader be 
The noble Man of Galilee. 

You cannot build a noble State 
By any Chance or fleeting Fate. 

The nation that forgets her God 
Must perish ’neath His scourging rod. 

Old France the Revolution saw 
When she forgot the mighty law 
That Moses brought from Sinai’s peak 
To men or nations proud or meek. 

As long as Reason ruled the land 
Fair France’s hopes were built on sand: 
But when she turned to Faith one day 
She saw indeed a golden ray. 

I look across the fields away, 

And see mad men in War’s array~ 

Led by Ambition proud and bold, 

And lust for power and lust for gold, 
(Aside.) Almighty God, let hatred cease, 


Protect us all, Great Prince of Peace. 
Napoleon III. 

I do not want to see the day 
When France gives up to Bismark’s 
way. 

The world would see an end of peace. 
And homely happiness would cease. 

Alas! Poor France must always be 
The battlefield of Liberty. 

Should Bismark win in his great scheme 
The world with Anarchy would teem, 
And mighty streams of human blood 
Would flow through France just like a 
flood. 

(They All Go Out.) 

Act III. Scene 3. 

[A meeting place of the French Legislatif, 
Paiis Enter Napoleon III, Count Benedetti the 
French Ambassador to Prussia, Marshal Bazaine, 
Marshal McMahan. Time July 15, 1870.] 
Benedetti. 

I sought the Prussian king in vain 
About the crisis now in Spain, 

Where Hohenzollern Leopold 
Has tried the Spanish crown to hold. 
King William said at Ems one day, 

“They cannot frighten us away, 

For we shall win in one glad hour 
A worthy name, a worldly power.’' 

When Hohenzollern rule is nigh 


Fair Freedom is condemned to die. 

But in the cause of truth and right 
The stones of France will rise and 
fight, 

Napoleon III. 

He never wins a noble fight 
Who only uses human might; 

He always wins a worthy fight 
Who trusts the sword, “Eternal Right/' 
We stand to-day on sacred ground: 

In memory we hear the sound 
Of clashing arms, and wonder why 
Our friends among the PoppievS lie. 

So France, fair France must bleed again, 
But she will not now bleed in vain. 

Well! Let it be if it must be, 

God speaks for human liberty. 

Some day Seine glory will outshine 
The passing glory of the Rhine. 

General Bazaine. 

Come on, come on, I say to-day 
And let us sing the Marseilles, 

“Who takes the sword must die thereby,” 
Let Bismark heed high Heaven’s cry. 
When Desolation rends the air 
We’ll hear the cry that foul is fair; 

So let us fight for human right 
Against such Autocratic might. 

Marshal Mac Mahan. 

The day is dark, the clouds are low, 


1 his is to France an awful blow, 

But to this crisis she will rise 
And no one will her lot despise. 

Life’s War may be a narrow span, 

But every Frenchman is a MAN. 

Who is a MAN? I’ll estimate 
His mighty worth unto the State. 

He is a man who thinks that he 
Was born to learn nobility, 

Who struggles on and finds a way 
To see a rainbow every day, 

Who knows that Virtue has a place 
In every struggle of the race, 

Who tries to live the v/hole day long 
In that glad land of sweetest song, 

Who knows that Life is all sublime 
When guided by the Hand of Time, 

Who always feels that man is good-- 
A member of Life’s Rrotherhood- 
Who does not judge his fellowman 
That tries to do the best he can, 

Who struggles upward day by day 
And tries to walk in God's cwn w r ay. 

HE only can in honor be 
The worthy “Man of Destiny.” 

With such a man in uniform 
Great France will fight the Prussian 
storm, 

And beat back William’s haughty crowd 
That to Ambition now has bowed. 


Napoleon III. 

We now must bid our homes Good-bye-- 
Not with regret or bitter sigh-- 
And fight for France-what-if-we-die? 

It is so glorious to lie 

Where heroes fought a goodly fight 

For honor, justice, truth, and right. 

A wooden cross may mark my grave, 

Yet I will try my France to save. 

Come, let us hasten on our way. 

I’ll go to war with you to-day. 

(They All Go Out.) 

Act III. Scene 4. 

[At the Manor of Schonhausen in the District 
of Magdeburg, Prussia. Enter Otto von Bis- 
mark and Jules Favre.] 

Favre. 

I pray the struggle soon may cease 
And we shall have a lasting peace, 

I pray that in a near-by day 
The Prince of V ‘eace may have His way. 
Enough of War mv France has had, 
Sedan has made her heart so sad. 

What is the price that France must pa\ 
To have the joy of peace to-day? 
Bismark. 

Our land has suffered much from France, 
We’ve never had an even chance 
Till now to wipe away war’s stain. 

We ask of you Alsace-Lorraine. 


Favre. 

It cannot be, it cannot be, 

With such a gift goes Liberty. 

If France must fight, then she will fight, 
And show the world that Right is Might, 
Bismark, 

Some day the waiting world will see 
A great united Germany, 

And she will witness in that hour 
The Hoenzollern’s greatest power. 
(Aside.) This is a world of horrid dreams, 

A world of War’s most cruel schemes, 
(They Go Out.) 

Act III. Scene 5, 

[The Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, in France, 
Jan. 18, 1871. Enter all the German Princes, 
Otto von Bismark, King William of Prussia.] 
William I. 

The title you have given me 
Of “Emperor of Germany 
From man this title I’ve not won, 

It came from God the Holy One, 

Bismark, 

For years I’ve dreamed but not in vain, 
In world dominion let him reign. (Point¬ 
ing to King William I.) 

(They All Go Out.) 


Act IV. Scene 1. 

[In front of a farmer’s cottage in a wooded dell 
of Colorado, U. S. A. From the home Mrs. 
Meeker can see the towering glory of Pike’s 
Peak, the crystal river near by, the orchard, and 
the flowers in her garden. In the gleaming 
hours of a June day Mrs. Meeker sits in the 
doorway of her cottage singing to her baby 
boy.] 

Mrs Meeker, (Sings.) 

To Downy Land you soon will go, 

Sleep on, my child, my little Joe, 

Forget to-night your baby fears, 

And put away your little tears. 

The Lark has found her downy nest. 
After her work she is at rest. 

The sky of blue has turned to gray 
Because it is the close of day, 

The Columbine has bowed her head 
And gone to her wee trundle bed, 

The sun has told us all “Good-bye” 

And left the dappled, golden sky, 

The happy stream glides gently by 
And sings a twilight lullaby. 

Pike’s Peak looks down from locks of 
snow 

To see the fields with glory glow. 

When Daddy oame out to the West 
He found the place that he loves best; 
Now rest till morn, my pretty boy, 


My hope, my comfort, and my joy, 

To Downy Land you now will go, 

Sleep on, my darling little Joe. 

(She puts her Joe to bed, and as she turns away 
says in a whisper, ‘T wonder what will be his 
future--how he will live and what he will do for 
his country.” ) 

Act IV. Scene 2. 

[A street in Serajevo, Bosnia, at a later date. 
Enter Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, 
followed by a Serbian fanantic.] 

Assasin. (Gavrio Prinship.) 

There’s nothing left for me to do 
Than pierce his wicked heart right 
through. 

He loves his country and her laws 
He says. His words like eagle’s claws 
Stick deep into her victim’s side, 

And never can her nature hide. 

He is a wise and cunning bird 
Whose vueness Trainer William stirred. 
But I must not give way to fear 
Lest on the world I bring a tear, 

Beneath the sod this Duke must lie. 
To-day Duke Ferdinand must die, 

(He fires the fatal shot.) 

He’s gone, I know not what may come. 

It may mean war, but let it come, 
Ambition must be overthrown, 


And man must for his sins atone. 

(He disappears in the crowd,) 

Act IV, Scene 3. 

[A Room in the Palace of Potsdam. Enter 
Emperor William II, Von Hindenburg, Von Biss- 
ing, and the Crown Prince.] 

William II. 

Bad news has come to me to-day 
That I must tell without delay, 

An Anarchist stretched forth his hand 
And slew our friend, Duke Ferdinand: 

So this foul deed will teach the State 
The meaning of “The Hymn of Hate;” 
But if a war be forced on me 
The world will hear of Germany. 

He is no friend of man who brings 
A cruel war with all its stings, 

He is a friend to his own land 
Who, when attacked, will stretch the 
hand 

And seize the trusty, mighty sword 
And beat back the barbaric horde. 

You know that Austria will be 
The truest friend of Germany. 

Well stand by her through thick and 
thin, 

And fight the Serbs for their great sin. 
When Hohenzollern shows his might 
The world will marvel at the sight. 


Von Hindenburg. (To William II.) 

Whate’er you say to-day is right, 

The world will see a wondrous sight, 
Throughout the world the sword will 
stand 

The glory of the Fatherland. 

Von Bissing. 

Whatever comes out of this deed 
I’ll do my part to help in need, 

And in this crisis we shall see 
The spirit of New Germany. 

I’ll serve the State in any cause, 

And Fll enforce her mighty laws. 

The Crown Prince. 

The wicked Serb, the wicked Serb, 

The peace of nations will disturb: 

But when a million men are dead 
The world will call me “ Figurehead,” 
Eternal greatness of the State 
Will not be changed by hand of Fate. 
Tra la, tra la, tr la, tra le, 

I’m happy as a Lark can be. 

Now let me sing my happy tune 
In Paris or around Verdun. 

(They All Go Out.) 

Act IV, Scene 4. 

[Just before sunrise. A Street in Brussels. 
Enter Von Bissing and Soldiers.] 

Von Bissing. (Holding a paper in his hand.) 
This is the paper that will tell 


The story of Edith Cavell, 

Who at the rising of the sun 
Will die for crimes that she has done. 
She was a traitor full of hate, 

Who richly merits her sad fate. 

These traitors have no right to life, 

For they are always stirring strife, 

And making Belgians hate our laws. 
(They are as fierce as eagle's claws.) 
Let every traitor learn to be 
Obedient to Germany. 

First Officer. 

No pity give to such as she, 

Who do defy strong Germany. 

Who mocks the Hohenzollern crown 
Will bring the wrath of Heaven down. 
When all these fiends are ’neath the sod 
The world will see the power of God; 
For God has said to Germany, 

“ The world is thine, I’ll fight for thee.” 
Second Officer, 

0 let us not stretch forth the hand 
And bring disgrace to Fatherland, 

We cannot build for future years 
If we build on in human tears, 

For mothers’ sighs and babies’ cries 
Will go right through the vaulted skies 
To Him whose work on earth was done 
To save from shame each little one. 

To keep unspotted our fair name 


Is greater than a world of fame. 

(They All Go Out) 

[Enter a Squad of German Soldiers, followed 

by Edith Cavell.] 

First Officer. (Addressing Edith Cavell.) 
There’s just one word for you to say, 

But say it now without delay, 

What do you think of German might? 
You see it now has won the fight 
Against all traitors strong and bold, 
Against all schemers young and old, 

Some day your memory will be 
Like Arnold’s full of infamy. 

One moment and your life is o’er, 

You’ll drift to the eternal shore. 

As you stand on the darkened brink 
Tell us right now just what you think; 
We pause just one dread moment here 
That you may shed repentent tear. 

Edith Cavell. 

Tii sad that I must bid farewell 
To people that I love so well. 

’Tis not that I’m afraid to die 
That I do make my last sad sigh. 

For patriotism I have stood- 
A patriotism that does good 
And never causes tears to flow 
Or make the joy from life to go: 

But as I face the German gun 
To give my life for what I’ve done, 


To keep my fellowmen from woe 
And take away earth’s great sorrow. 

One thing I realize full well, 

And that I freely wish to tell: 
Patriotism’s not enough-- 
It shows a diamond in the rough. 

I bear my heart to German steel- 
In it no hatred I must feel. 

(She dies.) 

Act IV. Scene 5. 

[A Street of Chicago. Enter Newsboys and 
Citizens.] 

First Newsboy. 

An extra paper, right this way, 

A mighty ship is sunk to-day; 

The Lusitania goes down 

And hundreds of our people drown. 

First Citizen. 

Come here, come here, and let us see. 
This is the work of Germany, 

There’s not a thing for us to do 
Except to fight the whole thing through. 
When Woodrow writes to Old Berlin 
He’ll place the blame for this great sin. 
America must always be 
Defender of world liberty. 

Second Newsboy. 

United States has got no snap 
But let me in on this great scrap; 

I’ll fight a German newsie kid, 


I’ll smash his bean and spoil his lid; 
And so you all can plainly see 
It’s always Uncle Sam for me. 

Second Citizen. 

Why were those people on the sea? 
It’s something I could never see. 

Such daring deeds will always be 
A shock to Pacifists like me. 

First Citizen. 

I always think a Pacifiist 
Is just a lean, lank Pessimist, 

Who says that we should never fight 
A fellowman, “ for it’s not right.” 
When Teddy came out of the West 
He tried to show the w~ay that’s best. 
He learned among the cowboys there 
The motto, “ For a fight prepare.” 

I think that it is time to fight, 

And show that U. S. stands for Right. 
God will Autocracy soon still 
As He did once at Bunker Hill. 

Great Lincoln said of Slavery, 

“ It cannot live-all men are free; 

And yet to-day thrives Slavery- 
Its maker is Autocracy. 

Poor Belgium’s cries have reached our 
land. 

United States will take a hand 
And drive the tyrant from the throne 
And make him for his sins atone. 


“ The Lusitania” must be 
The battle-cry of Liberty. 
(They All Go Out.) 



Act V. Scene 1. 

[The Royal Palace in Charlottenburg. Enter 
Von Mackensen, Von Bissing, Von Hinderburg 
William II.] * 

Von Mackensen. 

America some day will learn 
The meaning of our language stern, 

She must respect our mighty laws 
Or she will feel the eagle’s claws. 

Von Bissing. 

To-day I hear the church bells ring, 
To-day I hear the children sing. 

Von Hindenburg. 

What is the music that I hear? 

Some German victory is near. 

Von Terpitz will a hero be 
For he is master of the sea. 

The day this mighty ship went down 
Von Terpitz won a world renown. 

William II. 

To-day a note from Wilson came, 

He puts on Germany the blame, * 

And intimates that he will fight’ 

For what he calls the Truth and Right. 
America is in a huff, 


But all she says is just a bluff. 

Act V. Scene 2. 

[The Roosevelt Residence on Sagamore Kill, 
Oyster Bay, New York.] 

Theodore Roosevelt, (In Meditation.) 

Why am I here alone to-day? 

Why do I stay at Oyster Bay, 

When men are dying “ over there,” 

When rockets pierce the gloomy air? 

To rest at ease when duty calls 
Is something that my soul appals. 

To rest, to sleep for Liberty-- 
’Tis glorious enough for me. 

I'll volunteer to go to France, 

And with War’s fate I’ll take a chanc.e 
I'll write ro Wilson now to-day. 

I hope I’ll soon be on my way. 

My Country, I will fight for Thee, 

Great land of Liberty, 

(He Goes Out.) 

Act V. Scene 3. 

[Sagamore Hill. A Room in the Roosevelt Res¬ 
idence.] 

Roosevelt. 

I heard from Washington to-day, 

And must stay at Oyster Bay. 

Although I cannot go to France 
My sons will with the “boys” advance. 

A true American will make 


A sacrifice for country’s sake. 

(He Goes Out,) 

ActV. Scene 4. 

[On a Wharf cf New York City, at which the 
“ Majestic” waits to start for France with a con¬ 
tingent of United States soldiers. Enter Joe 
Meeker and Ross Wheeler.] 

Ross Wheeler. (To Joe Meeker.) 

Shake hands, shake hands, we’re friends 
to-day, 

Let’s chum together on. the way, 

And now I ask where is your home? 

Is it in Carthage or in Rome? 

Joe Meeker. (To Ross Wheeler.) 

I live in Colorado fair 
Where life is sweet with pleasure rare, 
Where Columbines of dainty hue 
Are nourished by the mountain dew, 
Where sunsets speak of wealth untold 
Far brighter than a ship of gold. 

Where glory comes to evening hours 
And beauty to the fragrant flowers. 

Such is the place where I was born. 

Let honor then the State adorn. 

If I should for my country die 
Just tell my people where I lie. 

W^here do you live that I may tell 
Your folks at home that your fought 
well 

If > ou should die away in France 


Where cruel Death has every Chance, 
Ross Wheeler. (To Joe Meeker.) 

I live among the Catskill Hills, 

Where there are many charming rills, 
Where speckled trout in happy play 
Dart here and there the live-long day, 
Where bandit bees long journeys make 
And from the clover honey take, 

Where sugar-camps in Spring abound, 
Where there are apples sweet and round, 
Where Maple leaves when they grow 
old 

Change from the green to red and gold. 
Where the Arbutus perfume throws 
To him who through the woodland goes, 
Where men the growing Chestnuts see, 
And squirrels that jump from tree to 
tree. 

I live away in New York State 
But now Fm in the hand of Fate. 

So if I die I know you’ll tell 
My people of the place I fell. 

(The “ Majestic” leaves the dock.) 
Farewell to thee, farewell to Thee, 

My Country, Land of Liberty. 
Roosevelt. (Stands on the Wharf.) 

Words cannot tell my thoughts to-day, 
The great ship now has slipped away. 
There’s Archie, Quenten, Kermit, Ted- 
They soon may be among the dead. 


They may return to speak to me 
And show the scars of Liberty. 

And what is war? I thought I knew, 

But I must think the whole thing 
through. 

Its desolation, ruin, shame 
Destroys a land of fairest name. 

O’er all the world flow streams of tears 
That will not cease for many years 
Until, perhaps, that happy day 
When Christ will wipe them all away. 

I look away out toward the sea. 

It is a saddened sight to see. 

The great “ Majestic” rides the foam 
And takes our “boys” away from home; 
But then it is the second trip 
Of what I call the “ Mayflower” ship. 
The Pilgrims sought for Liberty- 
Our “boys” will take it o’er the sea, 

All glory to this “ Mayflower” ship 
That starts to-day her second trip. 

She’ll give to Albert courage great 
To build again his ruined State. 
(Roosevelt leaves the Wharf.) 

Act V, Scene 5. 

[A Cottage in a wooded Country of Colorado. 
John Meeker and his wife Jane sit in front of 
their Cottage,] 

John Meeker. 

I see yon sky all streaked with gold, 


I know the day is growing old. 

I think the best part of the day 
Is when the Sun just slips away 
Behind the hill and goes to rest- 
This is the time that I like best. 

The best part of Life's day will be 
The Sunset-let it come to me. 

For thirty years we’ve lived here, Jane, 
And we have learned not to complain; 
But days are long and time is slow, 

I wonder when we’ll’hear from Joe. 

Mrs. John Meeker. 

The clock ticks on each weary day, 

But as it ticks I knit away, 

And hope that some day I will see 
My Joe just as he used to be; 

But if he dies, but if he dies 
Hi not weep out my weary eyes. 

This sacrifice must rise above 
The heart-strings of a mother’s love. 

(A Neighbor approaches with a Letter.) 

I see a neighbor coming near, 

Does he bring any news to cheer? 

(Takes Letter.) 0 God, 0 God, our Joe is dead. 
And this is what the letter said: 

“ I thought that you would like to know 
About the death of your son Joe. 

He went to battle with a shout, 

“ 0 Powder River,” he called out. 

I stood beside him as he fell. 


And he was fighting strong and well. 
They took him to a hut near by. 

And there I saw him calmly die, 

And as he died he sang to me, 

“ Rock of Ages cleft for me ” 

(The Letter was signed by Ross Wheeler.) 
Act Y. Scene 6. 

[A Room in a Home in the Cat skill Hills. New 
York.] 

Mrs, Jacob Wheeler. 

The Armistice was signed tc-day, 

Our Ross will soon be on his way. 

The war has brought on us the rod, 

But we have seen the hand of God. 
We’ve learned the greatness of the State 
Lies all in Love and not in Hate; 

The Ruler of the world will be 
Henceforth the Man of Galilee. 

We’ve hammered on in our own way 
And hoped to build a home some day 
In which the human race can live 
And unto Honor homage give: 

But we forgot the Architect 
And His commands to us, “ Reflect 
On my great plans and build to-day 
According to my chosen way.” 

We were in workman’s clothes arrayed 
But did not see God’s plan displayed; 

Or if we saw we did not care 
Until our “ boys” died “ over there.” 


But there’s a God who never sleeps, 

Who o’er the world strong vigil keeps. 
Act V. Scene 7. 

[The Palace of Amercngen in Holland. Enter 
William HohenzoJlern, Ex-Kaisar.] 

William Hohenzollern. 

How are the mighty fallen down! 

I've lost at length my precious crown, 
Ambition brought me to this fate- 
Ambition false taught me to hate. 
Forsaken by my dearest friend. 
Neglected, pining as the end 
Of earthly dreams is drawing near. 

Alas! Alas! I shed a tear 
O'er fallen idols that are dear 
As lie to me-idols of power 
That perish in an evil hour. 

Ah, who can say Ambition’s way 
Will make the soul with gladness play? 
Napoleon, Napoleon- 
What victories his genious won- 
Until a stern fate passed his way 
And took his glories all away! 

The sword made red old Waterloo 
And Flanders Field where Poppies grew. 
To St. Helena then was sped 
The man who painted nations red, 

And from that rocky isle one day 
His soul of sorrow passed away. 

So from this prison-house some day 


My own sad soul will speed away. 

A dream i had one stormy night 
That filled my mind with awful fright. 

I heard the flutter of a wing 
And then I saw an awful thing 
That darted like an eagle fierce 
And tried my very heart to pierce; 

And then it flew without delay 
To Fatherland not far away. 

It flew above an open grave- 
Augusta slept among the brave. 

’Twas Death that came into 'my way 
Instead of joyous Destiny. 

When ruin stalks on every hand 
What will become of Fatherland? 

To dream, perhaps, and writhe in pain. 
To wake, to sleep, to dream again 
Of that sad day when to the world 
Defiance dark was proudly hurled, 

And steel met steel in bloody fight 
And turned the sunlight into night: 

So in my dream 1 looked away 
And saw sad Sorrow misty gray, 

And Nature seemed to shed a tear 
As toward that grave a stream came near. 
I looked away to Waterloo, 

I looked away to Athens too, 

I looked away to Italy 

Where Rome held sway so mightily, 

I looked far off to Ocean’s gray 


Where Spanish ships went down one day, 
I looked away to Mexico 
Where Maximillion suffered so, 

I looked to Egypt once so great, 

And Babylon a fallen State. 

There was no country I could see 
That did not show that stream to me. 
From savage lands its course did run 
From eastern dawn to setting sun. 

From Northern chili to Southern heat 
In one great stream its tears did meet. 

I looked again and lo, ’twas red. 

Oh! Such a sight! It turned my head, 
And as it flowed it seemed to say, 

" I’ll meet you on the Judgment Day, 

For I am War cruel and grim, 

I’ll fill your cup right to the brim 
Until you say you’ve had enough. 
Ambition should know better stuff.” 

And then a gentle voice did say- 
It seemed to come from far away- 
“ You did forget your wedding day, 

With false Ambition you did play, 

And War’s stern sorrow on me lay 
Till I became a lump of clay.” 

I woke and it was but a dream; 

Yet life is not what it did seem 
Before I entered on this race- 
Alas! Alas! My sad disgrace- 
For fleeting fame and passing power 


That perish both in one sad hour. 

When all sword glories pass away 
What else is left to cheer my way? 

There is a power to cheer my life, 

It is the power of Christian wife. 

There is a Star of beauty bright 
That twinkles through the darkest night, 
That comes from Heaven just above- 
It is the Star of “ Wifely Love.” 
Sometimes the world forgets t;;at star 
Whose brightness shines from Heaven 
afar 

To bless and cheer and help along 
The man whose heart has lost its song. 
She stands by him throughout the years 
And tries to help through cheers and 
fears. 

Twice blest the man whose wife does know 
The way the holy life should go. 

Who in a Christ-like spirit cheers. 

And Christ-like takes away the fears. 
This war has made me very sad, 
Sometimes I think that I am mad, 

After this tempest sad and sore 
The Fatherland will rise once more 
And help the nations of the earth 
In deeds that are of sterling worth. 
Forgetting war she then will rise 
A nation pure none can despise. 

I hope that the Allies will be 


Kind to a fallen Germany, 

And that no jealousy may creep 
Abroad to cause the world to weep. 
But cruel war will never cease 
Till nations know the Prince of Peace. 



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